Inner Conflict
by LucasVN
Summary: Bumblebee has a moral conflict over something he was chosen to do. EDIT: Second chapter added.
1. Inner Conflict

This is a weird idea that randomly came to me, and had to be written.

* * *

In less than a megacycle, Bumblebee would be making history. Yet, no one would know he was behind it. Out of all the mechs and femmes in the Elite Guard, he was chosen to do this task. But Bee didn't know if he could mentally handle it.

What he had to do went against his morals; against that of most Autobots, as well. Yet it was what the high council had recommended. He was shocked that he, of all mechs, was chosen. He was still young, and several had objected to him doing it. Despite these concerns, he accepted because he felt obligated to do it.

* * *

Bumblebee looked down at his now black hands. He looked at his canary-yellow helmet, which now sat on the table in front of him, then at the rounded-top black helmet on the right. With its battle mask closed, all one saw was a blank, black face with a red visor.

"Bumblebee, it's time."

Bee turned to look at Optimus Magnus, and sighed.  
"Okay, bossbot."

Bee put on and fitted the black helmet, then started down the corridor for the chamber. He reflected one more time. Just three stellar cycles before, he had helped defeat Megatron and Shockwave.

_Now, he was executing both of them._


	2. The Execution of Megatron

The executions of Megatron and Shockwave were highly publicized, but closed, events. The two were to be executed one solar cycle after the other. Megatron was first, by electrocution, and Shockwave was second, by having his spark removed for scientific study. The high Autobot Council had recommended the deactivation penalty for Megatron and Shockwave on the basis that they were too dangerous to be allowed to live.

The viewing room in the Trypticon prison was filled with various high Autobot officials, including the council. Also present was Cliffjumper, with a glare that could kill. He had suggested that the two Decepticon officials be executed by firing squad using their own cannons. He had gotten angry when the request was denied as inhumane, and had to be hauled away in stasis cuffs. All the while, he was yelling, insisting their offlinings should be painful.

The large transparent mirror in the viewing room gave the witnesses full view of the execution chamber. In the center of it was a large strap chair bolted to small insulating pillars. Shackles attached the back, armrests, and legs stood open, waiting for an occupant. Attached to the left leg was a small electrode, with a cable leading to a plug on the floor. From the same plugs a cable traveled up the chair, leading to a metal cap hanging from its looped strap on the top of the chair. In the middle of the cable was a large metal hood, with latches on the sides. On the upper part of on the back was a plate with several latch hooks along the edges.

The viewing room went silent as Megatron was led into the room by Warpath and several other guards, guns trained on the former. His fusion cannon was absent, and his servos were cuffed and covered by mitts. In addition, he was totally naked, lacking any armor.

Megatron was seated in the chair, and two of the guards started securing his legs in the shackles. One of them seated his left leg in the electrode. Warpath, meanwhile, uncuffed Megatron's arms and secured them into shackles at the wrist, then secured several large ones over his body. Optimus Magnus stood nearby, watching with a emotionless face, watching the strap team at work.

The whole time, the small executioner stood against the wall in one corner next to the switches. Entirely black, with a face consisting of just a red visor, he stood unmoving, suggesting not a single emotion.

When the strap team finished, they stepped aside, leaving Optimus to continue with the next step.

"Megatron, leader and surpreme commander of the Decepticons, you have been convicted of war crimes, including but not limited to, genocide. Your actions have taken many lives of different races, and the war you started has permanently tarnished the Cybertronian race's reputation in the galaxy. You, Megatron, have been sentenced to deactivation for these crimes, as it was decided you are too dangerous to remain online. Do you have a final statement before the sentence is carried out?"

Time seemed to stand still as everyone waited. Megatron had a look of slight pain on his faceplate, but held his composure. After a dozen nanokliks of silence, Megatron spoke.

"Yes."

After a brief pause, Megatron made his statement.

"You may have defeated me, and are about to end the lives of me and my second-in-command, but I must warn all of you that we are not defeated. As long as there are believers, we will never go away."

He paused as he caught sight of the executioner in the corner. Despite the disguise, something about the executioner was familiar. He couldn't put his servo on it, however, so he let it be. After taking a moment to regroup, he continued.

"As long as my name, my beliefs, and my cause are remembered, the Decepticons will never die. A new leader will rise, and I have a belief that you _will_ be defeated someday. It's only a matter of time."

He looked briefly at Optimus, then closed his optics and lowered his head. To those who were watching, it almost seemed like he was feeling remorse, even if it was tiny.

At this point, Warpath came back in, and prepared the final two pieces. He took the cap from where it was hanging on the back of the chair, and undid the strap. He then pulled the hood up the cable, and held it under his arm as he secured the cap. Megatron stared blankly at his reflection in the transparent mirror as Warpath placed the cap on top of his exposed cranium circuitry, and looped the strap around his head, securing it and the metallic sponge electrode within firmly in place.

Warpath then pushed Megatron's head forward slightly as he lowered the hood onto it. He then mated the latches on the hood with the hooks on the chair's backplate, securing it in place. With all preparations finished, Warpath stepped back.

Everyone looked at the chair, with Megatron strapped into it, hood over his head. Optimus had only one thought.

_This is it._

He was personally against the idea of executing Megatron, but since it was beyond his control, he couldn't stop it. He also felt this method was a little cruel, and the fact that Megatron would likely lose consciousness the moment the current was turned on did little to comfort him. With a silent sigh, he sent a comm to the executioner.

"_Go ahead."_

The whispered command startled Bumblebee out of a haze. As the executioner, he had been watching the process up to this point as a bystander. He had been brooding, and was now a melting pot of emotions. He still wasn't convinced that killing the Decepticon leader and his SIC was the right option, even though he had a grudge against the latter. But it was what the Autobot council had decided, and by chance, out of many, he had been chosen to do the dirty work. And even though he was given the option to back out of it, he dutifully accepted the task, feeling it was his duty. His role in this first execution was simple. He was to turn on the switch when commanded, and leave it on for however long it took Megatron's armor to turn the ashen gray of death, at which point he was to turn the current off.

Working like clockwork, Bumblebee took hold of the switch handle, and pushed it on with a loud clang.

Time seemed to stop with the sound of the clang, followed by an electric buzzing. Simultaneously, Megatron's chassis rose up against the restraints in the chair, trembling slightly. The air in both the execution chamber and the viewing room grew tense.

With each passing nanoklik, the continuous buzzing seemed to get louder, and the tension in the viewing room grew. Almost everyone started checked their internal chronometers constantly. As the on-time reached the half cycle mark, several violent tremors shot through the trembling chassis, causing even the most stoic of faces to soften.

Bee had once seen a human carnival 'game' which involved a fake electric chair. The animatronic 'victim' had violently jerked and quivered when the 'electrocute' button was pressed. He had expected a similar reaction here, but he was proven wrong.

As the on-time reached the one cycle mark, energon began to seep from the joint seams in Megatron's armor. Bumblebee had been told this bleeding would be normal, as the current would cause every servo in Megatron's chassis to contract, and the strain would cause some fuel line breakage. Still, it seemed unreal and grotesque to him.

As the on-time reached the one and one half cycle mark, it finally happened. Megatron's protoform turned from silver to ash gray, thought it remained tensed. Nevertheless, it signaled his spark had been extinguished, and that the most feared of all Cybertronians had fallen. Like clockwork, Bumblebee turned off the switch. A loud bang sounded as the lifeless protoform dropped back down into the chair.

The grotesque execution was finally over. The tension rapidly dissipated as everyone started to leave, leaving only Warpath, and Bumblebee.

Once everyone else was out of sight, Bee removed his helm, and left himself, leaving Warpath to tend to the body.

Tension had built across Cybertron as the execution time had come and passed. Life had come to a standstill as everyone watched on screens a view of the Trypticon prison's staff entrance, waiting for the door to open, and Optimus to signal that Megatron was deactivated.

At the prison itself, a number of Autobots had gathered. Many were waiting for the good news, but some others were protesting the deactivation sentence, chanting that it was a barbaric punishment.

At long last, Optimus Magnus emerged with the announcement. The masses cheered, and a wave of relief spread over the planet.

Amid all this joy and anger, one individual was not either happy or angry.

Bumblebee sat at a table, brooding. His was wearing his normal helmet again, and his paint was once again yellow, gold, and black. Sitting in front of him were the executioner's helmet and the electronic paint chip for the solid black coat. _Gear which he would be donning again the next solar cycle. _

He was still not sure if executing the Decepticons' top two was the right solution, but since it was what the council had wanted, he would go along with it.

Bumblebee inwardly sighed.

_One down_, he thought.

_And one more to go._


End file.
